A bird of prey hangs in a flawless blue sky

Wings motionless riding thermals

Tipping slightly to the left and then the right and then the left again

It all appears effortless, as though gravity is merely a suggestion

And this bird is not suggestible

“Why do they do that?” she asks

I try to imagine the boundless freedom of weightlessness

Tensing muscles in an intricate pattern of calculated ease

In order to catch the currents just right

So that I might be suspended in endless blue

Surveying all I see from the heights to which my wings have taken me

Reveling in the peace my efforts have wrought

High above it all

With the wind in my face and the sun on my back

I imagine all this and I answer “If you could, why wouldn’t you?”


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